To be a king
by LeonieWinterfeldt
Summary: Even the greatest king is only a man, vulnerable to love and lead by it either to his end or glory. Thranduil/OC
1. Prologue

I do not own a few of the characters, they belong to the imagination of J.R.R Tolkien. The cover of the story I so not own either.

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**_Prologue_**

**_A King's burden_**

_Right after the battle of the five armies. _

Silence. It was the silence of a victory that could only be won with too much blood and which therefore would become great. But the story, that is going to be told in many years from now will tell of another victory, a beautiful one, not with less dead, because the death it is, what fascinates about war and creates heroes, but with less cries, children and women. More glorious.

It's true. The only thing that comes near to the tragedy of a devastating defeat was the tragedy of a glorious victory. Every man of war has to learn this lesson, walking on blood-soaked soil, dying and crying men surrounding him who, despite him being the one who was responsible for their pain by leading them into the fight, still have their breaking eyes laying on him with trust in the moment they die.

Alone he was now. Nothing but the sound of the wind banging against the outside of the tent and the noise of controlled camp chaos enshrouded him, the frenetic sound of battle slowly leaving his mind.

Slowly, nearly cautious he raised his hand to take the fragile crown off his silken, long hair to look at it with an apparently distant interest. What a pretty little thing. So light...and yet so heavy.

Did he fail? As a king…or as a father? His gracile countenance, the well-trained self-composure of a king, cracked at this thought. But just a little bit. His father had always loved him and he had always known that. Could Legolas say the same of himself? A piercing pain in his heart told him, that he simply didn't know.

Rage clutched him: no one is able to understand the true burden of a crown as long as he doesn't have to carry it himself. To be always calculating, always watchful, always deliberate, always controlled and always unassailable was grueling and had pure exhaustion as a consequence. It gorges the heart that wants to break open the chains that keep it imprisoned.

Didn't his boy see that always present pain of his position? Legolas hated it to be called like this by his father, he felt his pride hurt. But that was, what he would always be for Thranduil: his child, which he loved more than he could tell and for which he would do everything as his father. Not as his king.

If his son was to wear the crown one day, he had to have already learnt from his father how to act like a king and not like a fool, who just does what his heart dictates him. Oh, there would be enough faults to do for him anyhow, but that was laying in the nature of the attainment of regality: he himself was completely helpless when his own father died in his very arms and the world broke down from one second to another. No lessons in the world could have truly prepared him for what expected him then. His father had been too soft with him and so had done maybe more harm to him than he could ever do to Legolas.

"My lord, your generals are requesting your presence." , interrupted the voice of one of his officers the silence that had enshrouded him before.

The back of the king straightened, his head lifted, but not too much, just enough to give the impression of natural superiority and his shoulders were drawn back, so that his broad chest seemed to be made out of steel underneath his armour.

Just as slow as he took it off his head, he now put the crown back in place on his shimmery hair, where it remained a well-known weight. Bevor he turned around, he banished every emotion from his face, but there wasn't a tear to wipe off. A king does not cry.

A king rules, fights battles and wins them to celebrate the victory or gets defeated to grieve for the fallen, just to rise again the next day and out of the darkest hour, fulfilled with calmness and ready to face the enemy one more time. A king performs the tightrope walk between cold prediction and royal generosity. But to cry, that he never does. Because when the strength of his people fails, he is the only one who can spend it to lead those, for who his only care must be, into golden ages again. Also now, the hope of his people was laying on him and his constancy. And a king, yes, that he truly was.

He gazed at the face of the young elf in front of him, the features not even the ones of a man yet, and could see the expectation laying in his eyes.

"Then we shall not let them wait, Melianar."

And so he stepped out of the royal tent and paced alongside the rows of his soldiers, dead or alive and inclined his head in the face of their bravery. Even in between of all the dead, maybe their comrades and brothers maybe, he still saw the belief in his person written in their flawless faces.

This confidence, have mercy, this blind loyalty shall condemn him if he should fail fulfilling the task he was given. And so he sloughed off the fear that had attached to his heart and became the ruler again he used to be, standing above the banalities of the heart.

But deep, deep inside him, between the broken pieces of this very heart and without the knowledge of its owner, there was the longing for the day to arrive, where it would get softened by affection again and this feeling of weightlessness that could carry his thoughts away.

In this moment, between all the grieve and the horror of this bitter victory, Thranduil couldn't know that a day like this was already waiting to let it's sun rise and to put him in front of a completely new, way more difficult challenge with all its light:

A king that he has been in every second of his life. Born to rule and with the courage to face the own destiny with pride.

But the only thing he couldn't do, the only thing he was not capable of despite his hard-won strength and in face of his oppressed heart, was vulnerability.

And vulnerability sometimes asks for so much more courage than strength does.

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_Twenty years after the Battle of the Five Armies._

Siyath peened the dirt off her trousers before she climbed the back of the horse that was waiting patiently next to her. The mare neither was very fast nor very tall, but had a reassuring amount of stubbornness not to leave her side. And _that_ was very valuable in these dangerous lands.

She was travelling alone although danger was omnipresent, because she couldn't handle nerve-racking questions, authoritarian affectations or simply dumb ideas, which (of cause!) would immediately want to get realized and so Ion and her own person were the only ones trying to find their way through the tight scrub and branches of the forest. Unfortunately, there were several unpleasant things to assert in this very moment: firstly, Siyath had never ever been to this forest before. Secondly, it was of the most irritating nature and way bigger than expected. Finally and definitely more alarming than fact one and two, there was a little disunity existing in her brain whether she was still searching for the right way or was already completely lost in the endless greyish green. In this moment of irritation she decided to shrug it off as a question of perspective. She resisted the thought, that it might had been cleverer to take a companion with her in addition with the biggest pertinacity.

Siyath was in the condition to fight with weapons, but actually she preferred the fight with just using the strength and the skill of her own body. The now existing danger she could feel in every single bone of hers, it had become present abruptly after hiding in the shadows between the thick routs of the trees before.

It made her nervous not to see her potential enemy, which was definitely there and watching every single one of her movements: it was well-known that a visible enemy obviously was easier to defeat than an invisible one. In spite of her growing discomfort, she continued her way giving the impression of unawareness. Ihon of cause hadn't realized any danger until then and found her way through the forest better than Siyath could have ever done. There was just a going forward, never there would be a going back for her. It was her own decision she told herself when the nights grew long and dark.

A noise right next to her caught her attention and let her forget the cheerless thoughts which had risen in her mind a second ago. She would have nearly cringed, but was able to control herself.

Again, behind her this time.

And again, next to her, behind her, ABOVE her..?

She stopped the mare, which had finally discovered a danger in her peaceful world and let the ears move nervously. _This_ was indeed very alarming. What meant a danger in Ihon's world, probably meant a catastrophe with an absolute collateral damage as a consequence in her own.

She glanced at her surrounding carefully.

Everything was still.

Even the birds, had there been some before?, had become silent. Not one single noise in a monstrously big wood.

Suddenly the air draught of an arrow touched her cheek. Another arrow would have nearly bored itself into her shoulder but missed it and disappeared somewhere behind her in the dark green.

Stiff as a poker she sat on her horse, not moving one muscle.

And then a tall, slender man was standing right in front of her, with taut bow and an arrow aiming directly at her face. It took her a second to understand that he was an elf. And her intuition told her, that he was not alone, but had a companion.

Before she could react, the second one had to come into sight, otherwise every action would equal stupidity. Her fine ears heard nearly soundless steps behind her.

Now.

She jumped off the horses back with astonishing speed and kicked the bow out of the hands of the elf before her, so that it shattered into pieces on the hard ground. Then she rammed her forehead into his face and heard a reassuring crack and a suppressed moan. Due to the fact that she was standing very near to his companion, the elf behind her could not have shot any arrows at her without risking them piercing his friend as well.

With a knowing smile she turned around a kicked the now approaching elf with all her strength into the stomach, just to then put her knee right into his face on his way down. So far, so good. But now to the unpleasant part.

Elves actually would not be elves, if they would not be blessed with extraordinary celerity and an astonishingly fast regeneration. And the advantage of surprise on her side was definitely wasted by now. Means, that just in the second she rose her arm to punch her first opponent, he grabbed her arm and painfully turned it on her back. Tears immediately wanted to set themselves free, but damn her if she'd cry in front of him. She hit her heels against his shinbone with her whole strength and used his short lack of balance to punch him right into his pretty face. Yet he kept standing and just a fragment of a second later she could feel his fist on her rips as hard as steel. The pain was overwhelming.

Well, and then the next thing she felt was the blade of a thin dagger at her throat.

"Don't. Move.", came the calm voice from behind her, not even a little bit exited, although she must have hurt him quite a lot.

The dagger was too long to escape and definitely to near to her throat, she could feel a fine trickle of blood on her sweaty skin.

"Just a single wince and you will deny it, so do not even think about it.", he said, as if he would had been able to read her mind.

"You will come with us", not a question, but a statement.

And so it came. As easy as that.

They lead her deeper and deeper into this damn wood, her walking in front of them until her feet were hurting and her wrist was starting to swell more and more. The only thing she heard were the nearly soundless steps and Ihon's hooves in her back, nothing else.

She was not able to say how long they had wandered through the dark woods, whether it was day or night or both, but her feet were so sore that she could have sworn she felt the warm wetness of blood in her heavy leather boots. Her shirt and her trousers were sweat-soaked. And then the limbs finally parted in front of her and cleared the sight on a gate, made out of elegant arcs and flanked by guardians in shimmering armours. A bridge, just as fine and slender as her companions lead to it over an impressively deep ravine. Everything in her cramped. She had an enormously big fear for heights since…well, since then. Already the imagination to cross this ravine let her stomach cramp uncontrollably and sickness started to develop deep down in her throat. Obviously she had stopped, so that her companions were standing in front of her now, expectation standing in their faces.

"What shall that be?" she asked with one raised eyebrow to win time. Poor try.

"This is the palace. And you will enter it now. Before us." , said again the one with the smooth, calm voice and equally calm eyes.

"… .."

Well, what exactly should she have answered? No? Rather not.

Just in that second she discovered a tiny smirk on his face, no, more a wince of his full lips. What a bastard of an elf. He had already seen through her apparently nonsense stopping. He seriously reveled in her well-hidden or obviously not so well-hidden fear.

"What is your name?" she asked him politely. His elegant eyebrows went up in surprise and out of this surprise he simply answered her question:

"Melianar."

He was still taller than her despite her quite noticeable height, so that she went very close to him when she declared with a sweet voice and truly cold eyes: "Well then, Melianar. We will see each other again outside of lands protecting you." Just for that it was worth surviving.

This time his eyebrows nearly touched his hair line and she saw that he didn't know whether he should laugh or be concerned.

Siyath was now facing the bridge again. Without risking one single look down and with head held up high she reached the gate, concealing the shivering of her legs. She could smell her own cold sweat. Unbidden pictures appeared in her head, a wave rearing up to smash her, but she suppressed it vehemently.

When she passed the majestic portal, she froze a second time. _They cannot be serious_. Should she now climb over huge arcs to get to any place here? _Approximately you do not have to get anywhere soon than to your very own grave_, she thought.

But thanks to the gods they took another way, just passing the most frightening things to reach sort of a platform that seemed to be the centre of that huge labyrinth. It nearly looked like the heart of this net made out of branches and stone, which appeared to be endless.

Heightened and of peculiar beauty was the throne made of branches and antlers. It was more decorative than any jewellery and more elegant than any brocade. His opulent simplicity, absolutely not a contrast in this case, was most appealing. It only was empty.

She turned around to Melianar, decided differently and addressed his still nameless comrade instead to ask where the appendant person actually was.

But before she really could ask, she already got an answer: "His majesty appears when he wishes to."

"But does he know of our arrival?" she asked in return, not out of a lack of politeness, but because she truly thought of it as a justifiable question.

A knowing, nearly clement smile was laying on his face: "With absolute certainty", he said in a very friendly tone. Suddenly she nearly felt sorry for hurting him during the fight and that although _she_ was the one, who got attacked and who was now in a probably even deadlier peril than she had been the whole time in those bloody woods.

Minutes passed by and became hours or at least it felt like it. But maybe she was mistaken; she had lost every feeling for time measurement since she had entered this forest. She looked around curiously.

Then Melianar and the other elf sank into an elegant bow. She faced the throne in front of her again and froze. There was standing a creature of frightening beauty.

She had never ever seen anything like it before.

But before she could actually _see_ him, she felt herself encased by an aura that nearly made her breath stop. Power, the pure essence of power flowed around this being, an ancient force which coated it like a garment.

Later, it appeared to her to have stared at him for an eternity.

Although she was not sure that staring was the suitable expression for her fascination: she was more… paralysed by his illustrious and at the same time frightening charisma. It was the charisma of a person, who decided with a shocking implicitness over death and life of others, war and peace and who saw this right as naturally her own.

Just after these first seconds of absolute astonishment she was able to truly see him. His hair was neither golden nor silver but something in between and was flowing down his broad back and chest. He was completely dressed in a silver-blue fabric, which was just as translucent as his hair. Like all elves he had flawless features and pointed ears, but although his distinctive face seemed perfectly shaped and young, it did not give the impression of youth, but the one of an experienced warrior, a leader: marked by big responsibility and bloody wars.

A crown as beautiful and striking as her owner graced his head and small flowers as white as stars entwined elegantly-swung, filigree branches.

And then Siyath looked into the coldest eyes she had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 1 - Pride

_I do not own some of the characters, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's world. _

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**_Chapter 1 – Pride_**

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And then she looked into the coldest eyes she had ever seen.

Not just cold as ice they seemed because of the colour of icy water, with these silvery spots framing the pupils like opalescent fishes breaking through its surface. It rather was something coming…from inside. Firstly she thought it would be insensibility laying in them, but then she discovered that it was calculation. She felt as if she needed to disappear under his glance.

Nearly disinterested he slowly moved his gaze from her to Melianar. Whether he was aware of her..astonishment? Respect? She didn't know, what exactly she was feeling in the presence of this creature, but whether he was aware of it or not was well-hidden behind an impenetrable mask of indifference. The elf portrayed the happenings in the woods without any circumlocution and without looking up once.

When his voice trailed off, silence returned to the place. Very long.

Siyath could feel this cold, blue gaze on her again and lifted his own to meet his eyes. Neither in his face, nor in her own one muscle moved. She would not look down to the ground like a maltreated dog when she hadn't done anything wrong.

When she already thought, that she had to do so after all, he turned around and paced slowly to his impressive throne. His shimmering raiment rustled like fresh foliage and the pearls tightly woven into the apparently endless layers of fine fabric very clacking silently like a carillon against each other. It was a noise of calming nature.

Sovereignty. That it was he expressed with every single well-thought movements and with every single pore of his.

While he was heading for the throne, he had his glance laying on her without interruption; it nearly seemed like him deciding whether to kill her immediately or to let her live for later use.

When he took place he crossed the long legs, so that his boots made of the finest leather became visible. A wave of silken fabric was flowing over the stairs like the water of a clear stream.

"Well.", he slowly said.

His voice was deep and full and endlessly bored. He viewed his manicured fingernails as if he would be seriously searching for a taint.

"You fight like a man."

Next to the fact that she was completely perplexed in the face of this comment, she was wondering about the nature of it: was this meant to be a compliment or rather an insult?

"I neither can fight very well with the bow, nor with the sword but I am in the condition to control my very own body, I suppose."

"You should fight like a woman, not like a man." He declared.

"And you should not tell me how to defend my own life.", _she_ declared simple and plain, what might had been a fault, how she realized too late.

His blue gaze shot up immediately to eye her more than intensively. She had to admit that she felt a certain satisfaction due to herself at least having his full attention now. When she seriously hated something, than it were people not thinking it would be worth looking her into the face while talking to her.

But now his eyes _were _locked to her face adamantly.

She could feel the elves behind her stiffen. And at once, she felt extremely embarrassed herself in the face of this transcendental beauty with this visage beyond any words eyeing her own, scarred face. A long scar started right beneath her blond hairline, crossed her blind left eye and ended on her cheek. It was the result of a fight she had had with someone, she would have never expected to have a fight with, she would have never thought of to be able to do what he had done and she would have never thought she knew so little. The distortion of her face had been the price for her life. Her eyes were burning.

"Really.", she heard his dark voice say and she was surprised how much contemptuousness one could put in one single word. His eyes on her scar or maybe she just thought so. Her back straightened.

"Really. In addition, I would not know why to listen to the advice of a man who obviously lets harmless wanderers attack and capture." She added in in a clearly cooler tone.

"Maybe because harmless wanderers mostly are not as harmless as they pretend to be, but are coming with certain intentions to my realm.", not a spark of excitement in his voice, which was flowing just as even as before through the room und which seemed to taunt her with its indifference.

"I can assure you, that I do not carry any you or your realm damaging intentions within my mind, I am only travelling through this wood.", she said with blank voice. It would probably be better not to provoke him too much.

"Excuse me for questioning your words.", a smile, the smile of a beast spread in his face. Her pulse rose, anger filled her veins.

"I did not ask for your judgment, I just intended to make my intentions clear.", she said with a smile in her words and steel in her eyes.

His smile disappeared as fast as it had come and at once, an icy coldness fulfilled the room around her. He rose rapidly.

Without stopping to look at her, he sent away the elves behind her with just one small gesture.

Slowly, very slowly he paced down the stairs of his enormous throne, heading for her. Like a hunter, who could be sure of his prey. Only a few centimetres in front of her he stopped as high as a mountain and bent down to her scarred face. She would have nearly drawn back, but she should be damned if she did so.

His face was so near to hers, that she could even smell his scent. Although her mind appeared to be paralysed, she noticed that it was something surprisingly sweet…maybe honey or something similar? A suppressed tremble was going through his body, undoubtedly a tremble of rage, while strands of his hair were nearly touching her cheek. It was as if a sort of electrifying energy would surround his body like a pulsing coat. His steely sky blue eyes were appraising her, even the silvery spots around the needle-fine pupils frozen to ice.

The full lips were showing a loving smile and with the same caring voice her father always used to have when he read a beautiful story to her, the Elven king spoke quietly:

"Who do you think you are, little girl?

You may fight as hard as a man and might have a sharp tongue in addition, but this does not give you the right to speak in the realm of my people with such arrogance. You are standing here on our soil, under my rules you will obey and my authority you will accept and you will not leave this halls earlier than I am willing to listen to you once again to insure myself concerning your so-called good intentions.

Have I made myself clear enough by now?"

As fast as he had been there he was gone again, standing a few metres away from her with his broad back turned in her direction, his distinctive profile in her sight.

"Until then you shall be my guest…?", his voice smooth and harmonic just like an even river flowing leisurely, as if this incident would have never happened.

"Siyath..my name is Siyath. And you rather mean your prisoner." she found her voice again, but even to her own ears it sounded weak. She could have slapped herself.

"No." he said politely, again smiling a nearly caring smile, "You shall just become my prisoner if something should reach my ears that makes you a threat to me or my kin, Siyath. Although then you are rather dead, I suppose. So be careful, little girl. I am a very patient person. And even more attentive."

After these words he broke their eye contact abruptly. She obviously was dismissed.

Siyath felt as if her body would have transformed into stone, she could have sworn her back would break in the next second, that straightened it was, her muscles hurting because of the long exertion.

Silent steps behind her told her of Melianar's presence. Totally unbelievable, she was seriously relieved to see him. In this moment of gratitude she stepped next to his side, so that he could bring her wherever he would bring her now. She actually really did not care. But before she went with him, she turned around one last time.

"I would very much appreciate to know, whose guest I am." her voice clear and bold again.

He looked at her with a spark of humor in his eyes. Maybe there also was a little bit of surprise laying in their depths.

"You are Thranduil's guest."

She nodded and left, the scent of honey wafting through her mind.

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_Reviews are always appreciated and most welcome. I am very much interested in your opinions and thankful for every one, who is willing to tell me his or hers. Yours, Leo_


	3. Chapter 2 - The Dance

Thank you so much for the reviews of the last chapters. Here comes a new one and I very much hope, you'll like it just as much as the first three and will tell me your opinion concerning it. Again, I have to say that some of the characters I do not own, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Enjoy!

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**_Chapter 2 - _****_The Dance_**

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Siyath definitely was not sure what should enrage her more. Either the fact that she seriously appeared to be kept in the Woodland Realm for an undefined period of time (what was more than just perturbing!) or that he had called her a little girl (what was absolutely outrageous!). To tell the truth, both angered her quite a lot, although she would of cause never admit it openly. In the end of their…well, let us call it a conversation, it was clear to her, that any additional straining of his patience would only worsen her current situation, but now it was boiling underneath the surface again and she paced along the floor faster than necessary.

"You could walk more slowly.", Melianar said, although he was able to keep up with her effortlessly.

"Indeed.", she answered unimpressed, not slowing down her walking pace in the slightest.

"You should show more gratitude for the generosity of her majesty to treat you as his guest instead as his prisoner."

She stopped abruptly and turned around to him.

"He does not see me as his guest, of what you undoubtedly are just as much aware of as am I!"

A little smile of amusement touched his lips but thanks to the gods he at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Still, he could accommodate you in a dungeon instead of a luxurious room like this one.", he said with his ever calm voice. Already this voice of indifference made. Her. Upset.

She laughed homourless. "And what do you expect of me now? Shall I be overwhelmingly gracious? Ha!"

She continued walking, before she stopped again.

"You attack me without any reason and tell me to follow you wherever you may lead me, just to drive me in front of you like cattle and put me in front of your king, whom I shall obey, although he is not my king. Then he steals my freedom from me without any right to do so and thinks, he can bribe me with silken bedclothes and a warm fireplace to tell him something, of what he mistakenly thinks, it does exist. But I can tell you that it needs more than that to make me do anything, be sure of that. And now tell me once again to show my overwhelming gratitude, although the only thing I can feel for this sort of behavior is fathomless contempt." Every word she spit into his face. Her eyes pierced his.

Without another word she turned away and entered the room she had stopped before. Behind her there was just silence.

"One more thing.", she turned around one more time. "If I had had the choice, I would have rather taken the coldest, darkest and dirtiest dungeon you can find than this chamber. Because my freedom you might be able to take away from me, but I would rather peg out miserably than to see myself bereft of my pride. Tell that your king."

Loudly she slammed the door right in front of his face.

With clenched fists and bolt upright she was standing in a room, which she did not see and surrounded by quiet music, which she did not hear.

As tired as she had not been for a very long time she breathed out. That was exactly, what should have happened on no account. All the precautions she had made like not taking a companion with her, not buying an attention-grabbing horse or not wearing her armour did not prevent this happening. She simply could not believe it.

Arrogant the elvenking might be, there he was not different to every other king, but he definitely was not brainless. Kings had this…always present arrogance, what probably resulted out of the circumstances they were born into; the right to rule given to them because of nothing more than their birth. It was not so much natural hauteur, but more natural arbitrariness, that they seemed to own. One out of many reasons why Siyath as a matter of principle mistrusted kings and sovereigns. They tended to lose any appreciation of the individual and instead exploited or destroyed it. Also she did not doubt his words to keep her here until he felt like letting her go.

All at once, she became aware of how serious her situation actually was. This was not a game, which one played by the way, but her life depending on the mercy and the goodwill of an elf she had just been talking to quite brisk. Siyath realized in this second, that with her indomitability in the throne room she had maybe gamed away the only chance she had had to get out of this misery. It certainly wouldn't not be the first time. But she simply didn't learn out of her faults.

She had to breathe deeply. She had to sit down. She had to think. Fast. There was no time to lose.

In search of a possibility to sit down and finally get rid of her boots, she was able to eye the chamber and its subtle beauty. The walls were covered with wood, no, actually that was not true, it more seemed as if the room …was carved _into_ wood. The only embellishment were the precious woven carpets on the polished wooden floor and the valuable linen which covered the bed. It was indeed silken. She turned away abruptly.

And froze.

She was not alone.

"Please forgive me in case I should have startled you.", a voice which was far too well-known reached her ears. "This was not my intention."

Leaving the shadows he paced towards her, still meters laying between them. Yet, she felt as if his icy breath would stroke her face.

Siyath simply could not believe she had not seen him standing practically in the middle of the room, that caught she had been by her own rushing thoughts.

A completely surprising presence of mind told her to bow to him. Like a man, one should mention at this point.

"Your majesty. I have to ask your forgiveness for my lack of attention.", her words were polite, but they were missing any cordiality.

If he had already stood there before she had entered the room, then he had also heard every single one of her words. She felt hot and cold at the same time.

He stroked over the shimmering fabric of his robe, before he started to speak again. He smiled benignly. It scared her.

"Do you like your chambers?" , he asked with flawless politeness.

"Yes, I like them very much, your majesty. You are too generous." , she answered. Her voice was above all controlled, one could just adumbrate a tiny little bit of sarcasm. But maybe also not.

He let his glance sink to the polished wood underneath his feet, so that his long eyelashes were resting on his high cheekbones like the dark wings of a raven. The little smile did not leave his lips, when he nodded. "Is it possible for you to live with these comforts, although you actually prefer..colder and less… exposed accommodations?"

Her polite smile froze and it seemed to her as if her heart had stopped for a second.

Wouldn't she have known it better, she could have assumed that he did not notice it, due to him walking alongside a strange semitransparent curtain made out of undefinable material and touching it lightly with his white fingertips, while she could only see his profile. She was nearly sure to see a tiny, knowing smile in it.

It was important now not to let him draw her out again.

"Under certain circumstances." , she just said politely and swallowed the comment that had already been laying on her tongue.

"If it does not affront you too much, I would like to take the liberty of evaluating the current circumstances to come to the conclusion, that they do represent those certain circumstances you are talking of." The benign smile was not laying on his lips anymore, but his voice was still mirroring it.

Oh, no. She knew _that_ game all too well. He wanted to lull her with his velvet, full voice into a false sense of security. He wanted her to trust him and underestimate his power and the threat he actually did mean to her.

She felt terribly tired at once. Her head was aching.

"What do you want from me?", she asked plain and simple.

He suddenly stopped and fully turned around to her. The warmth had ran out of him like out of a broken water jar and he looked again like the frighteningly beautiful and undoubtedly dangerous creature he was. His eyes focused hers.

"The truth. That is all.", he said disillusioning.

"I have already offered you the truth, but you did not want to take it. So what would you have me do now?", she asked and one could hear the weariness in her words.

But nearly before she had finished the sentence he had already started to say nearly impatient and astonishingly fiercely: "Do not lie to me, little girl. You have done so once, you are doing it a second time now and there will not be a third time."

"If you wanted to kill me, you would have already done so.", she looked him into the eye, the tiredness had left her bones in an instant.

One heartbeat there was nothing but absolute silence. Nothing seemed to move.

Then everything happened extraordinary fast.

He was not standing a few meters away from her anymore, but directly in front of her, bowed over her body and his face only centimeters away from her very own. She knew she didn't have a chance. Because everything was happening so fast and yet so…slow, she still had time to remember a similar situation that she had just experienced. But now she just saw icy blue and silvery spots. And felt herself touched by a thousand hands all at once, although he did not touch her at all and bare in the face of his piercing glance, which seemed to suck the resistance out of her piece by piece.

"I could do it now.", he aspirated, so that the words would have nearly not found their way over his lips.

Had he placed his strong hands around her thin neck to strangle her and shouted at her inflamed with rage, it could impossibly have been more menacing. Actually she would swapped, if she just had the chance to do so; the coldness of these old eyes with this enormous strength similar to an unpredictable force of nature laying underneath their surface and his appraisal of her person as if she was only an insect he could scrunch easily or a toy he only had to break, was way more terrifying. The shadows of the crackling fire were dancing on his face. It gave it an eldritch beauty.

"What are you waiting for, then? It seems to me that unproductive hesitation does not suit an elvenking.", she said very calm. If she already had to die in this very moment, than only bolt upright and with all her dignity instead of kneeling to his feet, begging for her life. That she owed herself.

"You apparently know a lot about elvenkings.", his words came fast, hard.

"No, nothing at all. You are the first I had the honour to meet. But I am not cursed with stupidity. And on that you can bet your pretty face, that I swear by the gods.", there was no going back anyhow.

It was nearly amusing, how relaxed one felt, death laying upon one. An unnatural calmness overcame one, nearly as if there wasn't anything to fear. And what was there to fear? There definitely was worse than death, Siyath knew just all too well. The heat of the fire seemed to concentrate on her scar.

Another, endlessly long second they stared at each other.

Then he let go of her.

Slowly he paced a few steps away from Siyath. Then he stopped. She hadn't moved, not one single muscle of hers had moved.

And then he spoke with changed face, changed tone and she felt the danger slowly leaving the room silently. Something undefinable was now standing in his face.

"That you truly are not, little girl. Indeed, that you truly are not." He eyed her thoughtful and it appeared as if he would be more speaking to himself then to her.

"You really do have courage. It speaks out of your eyes and words. Out of your straight back. Do you not feel fear at all?", he now looked at her with a certain interest. As if he really couldn't figure out, what was going on in her head.

"Of cause I feel fear. It would be idiotic not to do so. Courage does not mean not to fear, but to overcome your fear despite its strength."

He looked at her contemplatively. Was there a spark of respect in the blue of his gaze..?

"This is true.", he said slowly, his voice pure velvet again.

"You see, obviously I am in the condition to speak the truth against all your expectations.", she smiled at him canny. It was the first time.

The ban was broken.

"At least partially.", humour flared in his eyes.

Siyath knew, that she had the chance to win at least part of his trust now. This was the moment.

She stepped one step towards him, which cost her way more overcoming than she would have ever admitted. His wildness, hidden under brocade and silk, crown and scepter, made her insecure. Her father had always told her not to come to near to wild creatures, their beauty would be deceptive. Her father had been a wise man.

"Please listen to me. I beg you. I do feel respect for your people and towards your own person. I know you do not believe me, when I am telling you that I do not have any bad intentions in connection to your realm. I know as well, that my lack of…submissiveness..during our first encounter might have supported another impression of myself. Yet I would like to tell you that I would not allow myself to show a people disrespect in their very own lands. Therefore, I ask your forgiveness should I have insulted you. I can understand that you not trusting me, in your position I probably wouldn't do so either, but I wished you would at least not _mis_trust me this much."

"You should know that your lack of..submissiveness, as you put it, did not decrease your plausibility, but increased it crucially. Unfortunately, I am a man who is hard to convince." The benign smile was there again, the coldness had left him completely by now.

"At this court, honesty is a rare ware and always comes with danger. You are carrying your heart on your tongue, which is quite refreshing. Yet you should be more cautious. Honesty does not get forgiven easily at a court that feeds on the beauty of lies."

"I do not dare to contradict this statement, don't I know anything about this court."

"_Do_ you always have to contradict my statements?", he asked amused.

"No, when I am answering you back, I am not doing so out of the need of answering back because of enjoying answering back itself, but because I would never tell you an untruth, but neither I would ever bend a truth in favour of a king's beliefs.", her eyes told him, she was telling the truth.

"I do appreciate morality, you seem to own quite a lot of it."

"I do not own a lot, your majesty, but what I can call my own, I take care of very well.", now she was smiling at him in this canny way again. She could not see it herself, but her smile was beautiful. It made her face glow.

"Is that conservativeness?", he asked her even more amused.

"Rather consequent ensuring of wealth, I assume." Now she was truly laughing.

He allowed himself a small honest smile as well. He liked her charms.

He turned around and paced towards the door and opened it without a sound, while glancing at her over his broad shoulder.

"Your company refreshes me. You shall stay.", the smile was still lingering in his voice, but absolute authority found its way in it again.

"Is this an order to a prisoner?", she asked, but this time is was not meant to be a provocation, but a simple question.

"A request to a guest.", his eyelids were nearly fully covering his eyes, when he still had to look down at her despite the distance between them. The fire was shimmering in them.

"And would you let me go if I would need to refuse?"

"Well, I cannot imagine you denying such an imploring request in the face of your pure heart.", a last smile and a little bit of a triumph were mirrored by his features for a fracture of a second, then they were well-hidden again.

"Then it will not be possible for me to disappoint you, I guess.", Siyath said, inclining her head and lowering the glance as a sign of her agreement.

When she looked up again, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 3 - The game begins

I do not own some of the characters, because they already belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3**

**The game begins**

When he was out of the room, he left her behind in perplexity. Just on the verge of her thinking (which was extraordinarily astonished at the moment) a weird thought stroked her mind. She grabbed it before it had the chance to escape. The elvenking could impossibly had taken the same way to her room like her and Melianar. Nor any other that would lead to this entrance, because interesting enough, her room was laying at the end of a blind alley. That meant, that there had to be another entrance belonging to the chamber, laying unseen in the dark. Otherwise, he could have never ever been here so fast to see everything right from the beginning, just like he had of cause planned it. Which words she would exchange with the elf, how she would enter the room, what she might reveal indirectly when considering herself alone. Thanks to the gods she hadn't spoken out any of her thoughts. She just hoped that he had not already seen enough to put the pieces together to one whole with his razor-sharp mind.

But when Siyath looked around, she (of cause!) could not see another door. Yet, there still was this curtain made out of this interesting, wafting…? material, which the elvenking had touched so lightly with his fingertips.

Three steps and she was there. With one jerk she pulled it away from the wall to see….absolutely nothing. It simply was a flat, wooden wall. Slowly she let her gaze absorb every detail of the chamber. It was there, she only couldn't see it. It was there. Definitely.

By all the gods, how much did she hate riddles. At least those, which stood in direct connection with her own person and were at the same time of great importance. Because if there was a second way out of this room, that would mean a potential way to escape. However, she would have not gotten quartered in this chamber, if the solution was easy. Truly enervating.

Frustrated she sank on the edge of the bed to finally get rid of these damned boots. Sore and red her feet were and hurt terribly. She sighed.

Massaging her feet under occasional noises of pain she tried to recapitulate what had just happened.

And while doing so, the weird feeling of gotten strongly manipulated did not leave her. Certainly the no longer existing open enmity between them was an advantage. Indeed, a ceasefire she had achieved, but unfortunately this did not change anything about her current situation as being kept in a foreign realm for an indeterminate period of time and at a court, where the spoken word obviously had to be treated more than carefully. And above all things, he seriously had managed to make her acquiescing his request to stay at his court. As a result she now was de facto voluntarily here and could not accuse him of keeping her imprisoned anymore.

Fortunately this fact also meant that at least her head would not be rolling any time soon. Yet, that did _not_ mean that she was willing to trust him or that he was willing to trust her. One wrong word and her danger of life would become acute again within a second. She did not try to delude herself.

Indeed, he had manipulated her with his soft, dark voice and his most fascinating foreignness. And with these eyes, which seemed to be piercing but at the same time inviting to sink into their clear, cold blue, full of secrets and power underneath the surface. He knew it and she knew it. And _that_ let three facts appear just as clear as glass:

Firstly: it was a game and the first move has been made.

Secondly: the elvenking was absolutely unpredictable.

And finally: She could be sure of his full attention by now.

Siyath breathed out controlled. She had three pigeons 'egg-big blisters on her right foot. But they definitely were her smaller problem.

Before her thoughts had the chance to become even darker, there was a quiet knocking on the door. The effort of getting up and walking to the door would have been too big, so Siyath decided that it would not be too much expected of her visitor to find his way into her chamber himself.

"Come in!", she shouted barely loud enough to get through the thick oak timber of the door.

She didn't look up until nearly soundless steps stopped in front of her. And looked right into the calm face of Melianar. Well, if that wasn't a most pleasant coincidence.

"And what exactly leads _you_ to me in this very moment?", she asked completely exhausted all at once.

He glanced at her for another second, then he hunkered down and placed the steaming water bowl he had carried in front of her. Silently he kneeled down and looked at her with an enquiring expression.

Too shocked to say anything, she simply stared at him. But obviously her face had something approving, so he very slowly lifted one of her maltreated, bare feet to put it into the hot water.

She had already screwed up her face in expectation of the pain, but nothing seemed to happen. The scent of something unfamiliar was filling the room, rising from the water. It smelled like healing.

Then he took one of the linen towels, which had laid next to him and dunked it into the steaming liquid. Without looking up once he carefully washed off the incrusted dust from her foot. None of them spoke. Wouldn't she had known it better, she would have thought she had turned to stone.

Just when he started to wash her second foot, she dared to raise her voice. She felt timid, him kneeling in front of her like that, cleaning her wounds. His presence made her feel uncomfortable. She felt vulnerable in this unexpected situation: such an act of trust appeared to be misplaced here. She did not know why he acted as if they were to be old friends, although they had just …how long was that actually ago?...well, although they had attacked each other only such a short time ago. To escape her growing discomfort, she eventually broke the heavy silence louder than she had originally intended to.

"Why do you do this?", she blurted out, just to blush even more than she had already.

For the very first time he lifted his glance and looked at her calmly with his storm grey eyes. It seemed like an eternity.

Then he looked down again, not saying a word.

"You really do not have to do that.", she tried to wrest herself from him. Her body cramped under his touch. This intimacy was more than awkward for her.

"I know.", he smiled benignly, still not looking at her.

Siyath groaned.

"Shall _that_ be the explanation for your behavior now? What by all the gods do you elves always have with these cryptic answers?!" By _all_ the gods, please make that not all of them were talking like that.

Once again he smiled benignly. "You are not asking the right questions.", he spoke calmly.

"Excuse me. You are here and care for me and I am so impatient. That indeed was very impolite, please forgive me. Still, I would very much like to know the reason for your presence.", she said. Out of _some_ reason it was a need of hers all at once to let him know she did appreciate his efforts.

There he paused. And looked at her.

His face was beautifully shaped with its full lips and elegantly swung eyebrows and due to his nature totally ageless. His hair was shimmering dark in the dim light of the fire and only a few golden red sparks seemed to dance on his tied together hair mass.

"I shall ask for your forgiveness."

That surprised her extraordinarily. She stared at him in astonishment.

"I knew you suffer from fear of heights. I could read it in your face, your mouth showed this grim expression. That alone would not have made my behavior wrong. But I saw as well, that not only the fear of ravines darkened your thoughts in this moment. You felt fear because of the memories that came to your mind. Memories, which you had believed buried, though not forgotten."

A second time to perplexed to actually say something she just stared at him. She felt every single hair that was covering her body, electrified. Her back cramped.

"Whatever happened to you, I..I feel sorry to have brought you back to this situation. I should not have done so, forgive me. Yet, I feel respect for the courage you have showed. You truly are a warrior.", now he smiled at her nearly shy. The boyish charm of his smile seemed misplaced in the face of his normally so controlled, calm personality and at the same time, as if it only fit to him.

Siyath breathed in and out deeply. Her fingers were nervously twitching when she had to think of the ravine once again. And of back then. A hundred years ago and yet just one day.

"There is nothing to forgive.", she said more fiercely than intended.

She looked intensively at her folded hands. Her eyes were burning.

A hand placed itself on her cramped fingers. It was surprisingly soft. Only were it touched the string of the bow, the skin was hard and rough. It was the hand of a fighter, but its surprising softness reminded of his calm eyes. They fit to each other.

"Then you agree, that we entrust the past with our first encounter to dare another?", his eyes told her that he meant every word.

They looked at each other.

And the longer she sank into his serious eyes, the more she felt consoled. He helped her subjugating the demons that had gained power over her heart shortly.

When she finally raised her voice shakily, it appeared to be infinitely loud in this infinite silence.

"I..yes, that..that would mean a great pleasure to me, Melianar.", she said enormously relieved all at once. She couldn't even say, why she felt so comforted in his presence, but she did.

"Thanks to the gods. And I already thought, you would hew off my head and stick it on a pike as soon as I step out of this wood.", she of cause knew that he was joking, but his face still was deadly serious. Out of some reason she found that tremendously funny.

Firstly, she tried to control herself, but then she simply could not do so anymore. She simply had to laugh.

And when he than stared at her completely bewildered, she only had to laugh even more.

"Why exactly are you laughing?", he asked in a state of complete perplexity.

"For..forgive me, I..I just find your seriousness is of an absolutely heartbreaking quality. Truly. I did not want to snub you, though.", she finally managed to say.

Melianar still glared at her, as if she would have lost her senses. She had not hurt some sort of elvish law of conversation, had she? Suddenly, she was scared she could have done something wrong while looking at his uncomprehending face. But maybe elves simply had a different form of humor.

"You are very beautiful, when you laugh. You should do so more often.", he spoke without his facial expression changing.

The laughter stuck in her throat immediately.

"Excuse me?", she felt as if she would have chocked on something.

"Your face is glowing in the most mesmerizing manner, when you smile or laugh. You should do so more often, I said.", he explained to her patiently.

She felt more than just embarrassed. Since the left half of her actually very attractive face was scarred and her left eye blind, she hadn't felt truly…beautiful. It did not have anything insinuating how he said it and he said it without second thoughts. Yet she felt naked in this moment.

"You have a beautiful, distinctive face one would always remember. It reminds me of a proud lion, I assume. The scar and the whiteness of your eye only give it something even more exotic.", he said, as if it would be the most natural thing on earth. As if he would be evaluating the aesthetics of an artwork.

She would have nearly cried. How she sat there, her feet in a bowl of hot water and together with this cryptic elf caring for her, not because she had asked for it but because he wanted to do something nice for her…well, actually there wasn't a reason to cry like a little girl, the little girl as which the elvenking always entitled her, the little girl that had gotten imprisoned in darkness, that had seen women and children burn…stop. She was alive. She had it warm. There was no reason for crying.

But the simple gesture of washing her feet, the soft touch of a linen towel on her wounded flesh and this simple statement touched her in the deepest part of herself. It made her heart ache.

She wanted to thank him. Truly thank him from the depths of her heart and soul. But not one word left her lips. Her voice did not function anymore. She tasted salt on her lips and felt wetness on her cheeks. She wanted to say _something_, but she just did not know, what. She stared at her own hands, didn't know, where to put her eyes.

"You do not have to say anything. But do not cry. It is over. Whatever has happened to you, it is over.", he told her silently. His voice was as calm as always, as even and constant as a slowly flowing river.

"I..I am sorry.", left her mouth eventually.

"You don't have to be."

She tried to smile. "By all the gods, now I indeed look like he always says: like a little girl, sitting here and crying in spite of all your efforts. I..feel deeply ashamed of..my behavior.", she looked him straight in the eye again and breathed slowly. Her tears had dried. She had herself under control again. But a rest of that dark, deep fear remained in her eyes unnoticed by herself.

Slowly, very slowly he put his other hand on her cramped, ice cold fingers.

"It is not shameful to cry when one has endured what you had to endure."

"How do you want to know that I have endured so much and am not just a stupid, weak girl?", she smiled sadly at him. One single tear was still hanging at the tip of her nose.

He looked intensively at her for a very long time. His storm grey eyes were not searching anything in hers, because they had already found what they had searched for. But now they saw it standing in her dark blue eyes once again.

He broke the silence.

"You are no stupid, weak girl. I can see strength and courage and honesty in you. Courage, because you fight your enemies without fear. And strength, because you fight against the demons inside you. Every single day you fight this fear again, that could root deeply in your heart and whose existence you had the honesty to admit to yourself. Who can win over others may be courageous. But only the one who is able to win over himself is strong. I do envy you because of your bravery. And it is an honor to make your acquaintance,…Siyath.", he inclined his head elegantly. It was the very first time he had spoken out her name.

Just with the biggest effort she could hold back another flood of tears. She firmly squeezed his strong hands.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, too, Melianar."

Is was a silent peace that they made there. It was simple and especially therefore so pure. No words needed to be spoken anymore.

And so it was totally natural that they simply continued where they had stopped earlier.

When Melianar carefully dried her feet, he suddenly said: "He likes you, too."

"Excuse me?", out of some reason she immediately knew about who they were talking.

Melianar looked at her seriously. "I believe you have impressed him at least a little bit."

Siyath sighed. "Well, I dare to doubt that. Have you listened to our last…conversation?", she knew the answer anyhow.

He nodded.

She waited curiously for him to continue speaking.

"He is a little bit…capricious.", he finally said.

"Capricious. Indeed.", her tone had cooled down noticeable when it came to the character of the elvenking. Maybe she should contain herself now.

"I know, which impression he must give you. But he only does, what a king must do after his understanding."

"I fear, my enthusiasm yet knows its borders.", she said.

"And I assume, I have to understand that.", he looked at her again with this bewitching smile.

"Continue impressing him. That might be your best chance to at least diminish his suspiciousness a little bit. But be careful when it comes to the king.", by now, he had bandaged her feet with something smelling just as foreign as the healing water before.

When he then got up, he looked at her insistently: "Promise me to be careful. He likes you, I am sure of that. But there does exist a difference between the man and the king. Do not dare to go too far or he will be forced to punish you for it."

Siyath looked to her right.

A hand turned her face in his direction again. "Promise."

She sighed. "Alright. I promise."

He nodded.

When he turned around to the door to leave her alone, she held him back.

"Why do _you_ believe me?", she asked.

The heartbreakingly charming and still so surprising smile of a little boy was on his face again, when he answered: "I have seen the truth in your heart, Siyath. More I do not need to trust you. And my trust you will need at this court, at least in case you intend to survive. Believe me."

Quietly the door closed behind his slender appearance.

When he had left, she did not feel alone.


	5. Chapter 4 - A light in eternal darkness

Oooookay, so this is quite a big development happening here.

Some of the characters I do not own, they only belong to the imagination of J.R. . Enjoy!

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Chapter 4 

A light in eternal darkness

It was cold. Really damn cold. Naturally that did not keep anyone from leaving her behind in this accursed hall without the slightest explanation.

It was early morning and a foreign elf had chased her out of bed with an urgent knocking at the door only to acquaint her with the fact that his majesty would like to see her immediately. Subsequently he had lead her through (at least!) a hundred corridors and probably even more doors and portals to this quite impressive hall, which was unfortunately just as cold as beautiful. Siyath assumed that the stunningly huge door in front of her was the entrance to the royal chambers due to her companion who had signaled her with a gesture to wait here before he had disappeared wordlessly through the named door.

And while the minutes went by, she inevitably had to ask herself, what exactly the elven king could possibly want from her. The idea of her being confronted with his person again and being so unprepared at the same time made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

Exactly in the moment her discomfort decided to increase drastically, her companion graciously came back. Again just with a simple gesture and without one spoken word he signaled her to follow him. When Siyath reached the heavy double door, she gave him an inquiring glance. He shook his head seriously. _You shall go alone_, he was telling her.

With a nod she turned around and pushed the wings of the door made of heavy, polished wood, open.

In the first second she had to stand still because of the overwhelming picture offered to her. Siyath had never ever seen anything like…this before. It took her a moment to realize that she was indeed standing in a room or more...in a tremendously wide hall carved into stone. It was gigantic.

After a few more moments of astonished silence she could finally figure out of what all this did remind her so strongly.

It nearly seemed as if she would be standing in the very center of a huge network, in the pulsing heart of a monumentally big trunk. Wooden, elegantly-shaped bridges, arcs and enormously thick branches came together in this one, globular building which appeared to be end and origin at the same time.

Gigantic roots dug themselves deeper and deeper into rock and soil or broke through stone and wood, which seemed to frame the whole room. A diffuse light was wafting through it all, only interrupted by tiny, hovering particles which were nothing but pure, glistening light. It was rather dark than light, but a few, isolated lanterns which had become part of the branches by now or hung on endless ropes disappearing in the darkness above her, illuminated a moss-covered path only interrupted by a few steps here and there.

When one believed to be looking off in the far distance, one was just seeing an end and when one was assuming an end, one had to realize it only was a small element of the whole. Like a living organ appeared the round, non-transparent room in the middle, which seemed to be of a wafting quality although there were supporting roots as thick as men were tall and some fragile stairs made out of light wood..or where that… antlers? which lead to an equally elegantly-shaped portal. In spite of its great architectural beauty, it reminded her of a cage. As if it was the ruler of this room and what was laying beyond and at the same the ruled one, enchained by stone and wood.

Astonishingly quiet the wings of the door closed behind her. An equally quiet _click! _was to hear. Nearly like the snapping of a lock.

Siyath hesitated another moment, then she slowly paced down the few steps and put her feet on the enchanted path. A feeling of excitement rose in her.

And while she walked along the unexpectedly long path in complete fascination, passing stairs and small hills, she all at once discovered hundreds, no, thousands of small, white flowers, covering stone and huge roots like a soft, white blanket, shimmering like pure star light in the darkness next to her. It nearly looked as if someone would have climbed the sky to pick them, only to spread them here on this dark meadow, so similar to the night sky.

When she finally reached the filigree staircase made of uncountable pairs of antlers, it truly were antlers in all sizes, she hesitated for a second. Was this meant to be a test or something alike? Because she did not know, she decided to continue her way. Standing in front of the beautifully-shaped door, she knocked quietly. She did not want to simply enter the room without any permission, that would be more than impolite. But when she could not hear an answer, she carefully opened the door and entered the chamber.

It was different than she had imagined it. And empty.

The chamber was a lot bigger than one could have assumed from outside. The wooden sealing was snow-white and decorated with stucco work, while equally light, meters high shelves filled with books and skillful adorned objects fully covered the walls.

It was the chamber of a passionate gatherer.

In the center, there was standing a marmoreal, huge and ancient altar, only a block of stone, massive and of majestic simplicity. It was covered with papers, quills and probably mathematical instruments she could not name. It was of ethereous beauty. Shivers ran down her spine.

In a partly separated room she could see a canopy bed, adorned with only white sheets of fine fabric. Like under a spell she entered the bed chamber. Ans when she was standing right in the middle of the room, she understood the magical force of attraction that had lead her here.

Plenty of swords, polished and of great beauty were covering the wall next to the ebon cupboard. Slowly she paced towards it. When she carefully opened the black doors, her eyes discovered a silver armor, which could not have been more elegantly-forged and splendiferous.

It was the armor of a king.

She stroked the silver respectfully with her fingertips and totally lost in thought when she felt a draft behind her. The ban was broken.

Alarmed she turned around.

And there he stood. And how he was standing there with his silver-golden hair, which seemed to change color in the varying light and dressed in finest fabric…he appeared to fit in this and only this environment perfectly. Nearly too beautiful to be true, like from another world. It was a magical moment.

Somehow her voice found the strength to break the silence: "Forgive me, your majesty. I did not have the intention to hurt your privacy.", she inclined her head slightly, embarrassed now at once.

"There is nothing to forgive.", he said as calm as always.

"Does it appeal to you? The armor?", he slowly came nearer, his eyes directed only at the silver.

He reached out for the cold metal and touched it gently like a beloved friend or a lover he had not seen for far too long and had missed far too much. Memory was shimmering in his eyes. But at the same time she saw a spark of pain breaking through the surface of his mask of sovereignty and controlled indifference. It was the pain of loss every leader was condemned to face, she knew it without asking. And all at once, she.. felt deep respect for this man. For his bravery in all the bloody battles and horrible wars he had fought, whose shadows seemed to scurry over the forged silver.

"It is of the greatest beauty." _Like you_, she would have nearly said. Her words wanted to tell him of the understanding she would never be able to voice.

"Yes, it is. One could nearly be tempted to forget all the blood that is sticking to it.", he smiled a small, sad smile.

It was the most personal thing she had ever seen on him, this small, sad smile.

Without saying another word he turned around and walked to the only window of the chamber.

Siyath stepped next to him, not knowing what else to do. A foreign feeling was pulsing in her whole body while she was standing next to him. She could smell his scent of honey, herbs and something indescribable again. A scent, so foreign and fascinating and consoling, just like all the wondrous items and ancient books that decorated the walls. As if the world with all its cruelty and suffering could not pass the door she had left behind her an eternity ago.

"It nearly looks like a cage. Like a heart without which the body cannot function but which at the same time will never be able to escape the body it is caught in….Have you..", she looked at his profile and collected all the courage she could find before it had the chance to leave her, "Have you ever wished, you weren't a king?", she asked quietly.

He was silent for a very long time.

When she already thought, she could have gone too far and doubts began to squeeze her heart, he breathed in an out enormously deep.

"Yes. Yes, I have.", he said slowly, "when my father had died. Und also after that a few times. Sometimes..sometimes I still do so. But there comes the day one accepts the task for whose accomplishment one was born, little girl.", he smiled down at her. It nearly was as if they were old friends. Deceptive, did she know of his dangerousness.

"Do you believe, you only were born into this world to rule?", she asked, "do you not have any children for instance?"

The smile disappeared. She waited.

"Indeed, I have. A son. His name is Legolas.", he said soundlessly, a certain hardness laying in his words. Had he looked at her, she would have seen the sadness in his eyes.

"Is he here?"

"No. He is on a journey.", said the king, his voice still so alien and hard and Siyath knew that that was not the whole truth. She decided it would be better to stop asking questions in connection to the son of the elven king.

"Do you miss it? The sight of the night sky, I mean?", she asked instead.

Completely surprised he turned around to her. She had never ever seen him surprised before and had to pull herself together to hide her sudden and astonishingly big joy.

"I just thought so because of the white flowers. They look just like stars in the night sky. They must be of great importance for you, otherwise you would not have created their effigy down here. Of the stars, I mean.", she said.

He glanced at her. Maybe there was a tiny little bit of appreciation laying in the blue of his eyes.

"That is true. The light of the stars is holy to my people. These flowers a carrying the name 'little light of the sky', because they might be small, but all the more enchanting. Did they please you?", he asked.

"I would be lying if I said I did not need to hold myself back with all my will and strength not to pick one or two of them. For a second the urge was so overwhelming, I would have nearly thrown every caution to the winds, but in the face of the possibility of incurring the wrath of a whole people and in addition the anger of its most frightening king, I decided to contain myself.", she gave him a canny smile.

He liked her smile very much.

And even the king had to smile a tiny little bit. One eyebrow raised he looked at her.

"I would not have thought that you think of me as a frightening king."

"And I believe to have already told you that not feeling an appropriate amount of fear in connection to your person equals stupidity.", she smiled roguishly again.

There he became serious.

"You do not have to fear me, if you are willing to tell me the truth. I have been honest with you. Now I expect you to be the same for me."

And from one second to the other every little bit of relaxation had vanished from her body and mind. She was wide awake immediately.

He paced towards two massive, wooden chairs, which were standing near to the window. When he sat down on one of them he signaled her elegantly with one snow-white hand to take place on the other.

"Take a seat.", he said with a voice as soft as velvet. The hardness that had found its way into his words had vanished again.

This man truly was of the most adamant nature. Carefully she sat down on the hard, dark wood.

Silence spread in the room like shadows when light started fading.

In the diffuse light that had found its way into the chamber now his eyes were shimmering dangerously dark and everything one could have assumed being human had finally left the creature that sat in front of her. The dangerousness of a fairy being encased him. Coldness was reaching for her senses. Shivers ran down her spine.

"Will you be honest with me?", he whispered. Yet, his words filled the whole room and vibrated in the windings of her brain.

After another long silence she answered. She had made her decision.

"Yes, I will.", she said with her eyes looking straight into his.

Siyath did not know whether that was the smartest or the most fatal decision she could have possibly made, but something deep inside her, hidden from her eyes, told her to entrust him with the truth. She could only hope she was not wrong.

He leaned back in one sleek movement, his face a mask of inscrutability once again.

"Where do you come from?", he asked with perfectly controlled voice.

"My father was a travelling merchant, so I am not in the condition to call an actual place my home.", she said equally controlled.

"How come you are able to speak fluent Elvish, being a mortal and obviously haven't ever lived or been in elven lands for a long time?"

"My mother spoke nearly only Elvish with me when I was only a little child. Before…she died.", her voice stayed strong and she was thankful for it.

"Why has she done so?", he asked.

"I fear, I do not know."

"But have you never asked yourself what could have possibly been the reason for her actions?", he asked firmly.

"No.", she answered plainly.

One more moment he looked at her with thoughtful eyes. Than he continued.

"Why are you here?", now he was totally focused on her face again.

And all at once her palate felt as dry as dust. Like glued to her gums her tongue was laying in her mouth, not able to be moved anymore.

He did not force her. The elven king felt how much she had to fight in this moment although she desperately tried to hide it.

Siyath felt like a fool. Now she sat here, finally had brought herself to tell him the truth and not one word left her lips.

"I.."

She stared at the ground, then at him again.

"It is.."

She couldn't. It simply was not possible. If she voiced these words..aloud, there wouldn't be a way back. Not only concerning him, but especially concerning herself. If these words left her lips, they would become reality. And the consequences would be cruel.

Slowly, very slowly, the elven king leant towards the desperate woman in front of him until his face was only a few centimeters away from hers. Then his hands embraced her hot face with calming coolness. Her pulse was racing. Rage and hate simmered in her heart. Her eyes were burning. An abyss of eternal darkness opened up in her mind, wanting to absorb everything she was.

His cool fingers were laying on the skin of her cheeks and his eyes weren't aloof anymore, but only offered an endless calmness.

"Tell me. Nothing will happen to you.", his breath stroked her face.

And then she found the words she had been searching for and the strength his hands gave her made Siyath get up abruptly.

"I have to find the murderers of my family." Like ready for the battle she stood in front of him, fists clenched and her pulse racing faster and faster, hate burning in her eyes.

"Slaughtered they have them. My father. My little brother. Twelve years he was old. My little sister. She was fourteen." Her breath came only in spurts, just like the words she spat out. It was the first time she said the words she feared so much aloud.

"Slaughtered they have them!", she yelled. And then a swirl grabbed her mind and she was not standing in the chambers of the elven king anymore. Instead, the acrid scent of burning flesh filled her nose.

Fire.

Fire swallows everything they owned, the little they had possessed.

Men on horses encircle her father. He kneels in this circle of dark shapes. Blood runs down his temple and stains his linen shirt.

"Where is she?", one of the dark men yells. "WHERE?", a whip darts down on the face of her father. He tilts forwards. Blood darkens the soil. He fights to look up again. A groan of pain.

"She is not here anymore.", he gasps.

She wants to scream. Wants to release him from his suffering and wants to resign herself to her fate. But she can only be petrified. Everything seems to be surreal. As if it only was a horrible dream, an illusion of terror.

One of the men, apparently their leader, descends from his horse.

"Of cause she is.", he hunkers down in front of her father. "And we want her. Give her to us and we will spare the rest of you."

She only sees the back of her father; straightened and proud. But the face of that bastard, that murderer, that desecrator, that she can see. It is vicious, awkwardly attractive. Its picture burns itself into her mind.

"She is gone. You will never get her.", her father whispers. She can hear it, although she is so far away. She knows, he knows, he is going to die now.

Yet, she cannot scream. Unable to act. Paralyzed by angst.

Silver moves down on the man she calls her father. Red splatters. He dies, kneeling in the dust, the face in the dirt. She sees the life escaping his body.

Not one tear. Shock.

She hears Emilah scream. She shouldn't. Be silent, her father had said. Silent, he had said. The murderer looks up, sees her. White teeth shine in the light. Men grab her little sister. Rip the clothes off her body. Laugh at her. Cut her throat. Her blood feeds the ground, black. It absorbs the life.

Siyath turns around. She can't look away, so she has to turn around. There the corps of her brother is laying. His pretty face shows no emotion. It resembles her mother's.

The men sit on their horses again. They leave. The only one still standing there is the murderer. Siyath takes the dagger stained with blood that lays next to her. Hollowly she asks herself where it comes from. Then she doesn't ask herself anything anymore.

She grabs the dagger and examines the ruby red glint on the polished silver. Beautiful. Like jewels.

Then she turns around to face the murderer.

Slowly paces towards him.

He does not see her coming, too captivated he is by the blood-soaked scenery that gives him joy, thrills him. Siyath starts to run, leaves the burning house. She hadn't felt any heat. She doesn't feel anything now.

There is a loud crack behind her. She doesn't hear it.

She lifts the dagger, a few tears of blood cover her face. She wants to dig it deeper and deeper into his back, wants to slaughter him, wants to destroy him, wants to see the light breaking in his eyes and the muscles of his hand relaxing. But another hand covers her mouth and a second one grabs her waist. She wriggles. Tries to escape. Gets lugged away. Not one noise has the chance to escape her incrusted lips. Only tears of desperation, of mute rage are running down her cheeks.

Then a hard stroke hits the back of her head and everything sinks into deep, deep darkness.

Warmth of fire and the star-cold light that shone through the window hit her. Her whole body was shivering. Cold sweat of fear covered her from top to toe. She could smell it herself.

It was warm, a fire was crackling next to her in the big chimney. She held a blade in her hands. It was a dagger. But he looked different than only a few seconds ago. There wasn't any blood one there.

She slowly looked around, nearly unable to move. She was kneeling on polished, dark wood. Felt wetness on her cheeks. Seconds, maybe minutes, it did at least feel like hours, it took her until she realized where she was and with whom.

Opposite to her and near the window she saw the slender shape of the elven king. His face unrecognizable in the back light. A faceless figure.

"What..what happened?", Siyath asked with weak voice. Her throat hurt terribly, it was dust-dry.

"You have been gone for quite a while.", he answered calmly, "you where there, weren't you? With your family? You have yelled. And cried. And fought. Like a demoniac. As if you wanted to reach a certain person, but without success. As if you swam against a stream too strong to fight. "

It was not a question, but a statement.

"Yes.", her voice was empty, as if she was dead. She felt as if she was dead. Leached out. Endlessly exhausted. Beaten.

Slowly he stepped into the light. His whispering garment stopped before her. Strong hands grabbed her at her elbows and lifted her. Touched her cheeks again.

She looked into endless blue.

"Who?", he asked gently, but insistent.

"I only know his face."

"Why?", he asked with the same neutral voice. His cool hands calmed her down.

"They came because of me.", she whispered shakily, "but I do not know, why. I know nothing."

He looked at her another moment. His eyes searched for the truth in her own.

"I do believe you.", he finally said.

Slowly he let his hands drop from her face and took one step backwards. Wordlessly he gave her a wooden mug filled with water, breathlessly she drank it all. Her lips felt furry.

"And what happened then?", the king asked her. His words were dark and consoling at the same time. She felt as if she could tell him anything. She _wanted _to tell him everything, it was a need of hers.

Her sight focused again. Her head became clearer. She found back to her well-trained control. Forced herself to do so. Breathed in and out.

"The man…that lugged me away, he..I lived with him. A few years. When that with my family happened, I was eighteen years old. I was four years with him, before I went on this journey. He taught me. How to fight like a man. How to kill. How to endure pain.

One day he put me in front of a table. On this table laid a hammer. He told me it was my decision. Either he would break my arm with it or I would do it myself. I looked at him. He meant it serious. So I took the hammer and did it myself. My whole left arm was smashed. I looked him into the eye, the whole time, not one second I looked away. Then he splinted it. I asked him why I had to do that. He glanced at me and said he wanted to show me that pain never is a reason to forget the own pride and dignity. That he would be proud of me because of my decision.", she could say the words now without hesitation, she totally had her emotions in check.

"I wanted him to teach me the art of fighting with bow and sword. But he didn't want to. He was of the opinion I should not waste my time with weapons that could get broken or lost in the battle. The only weapons that count, Siyath, he said, are your body and mind. That he has always said. No weapon in this entire world would be more dangerous than those. And so he trained me. I know he wanted me to forget this day. The day I lost everything. The day my family got stabbed like cattle in the mud, only to protect my little life. The day I failed. The day I could not protect my family. The hours that haunt me in my dreams and the darkest nights.

But I have never forgotten. The back of my father when he died. The face of my brother. The breasts of my sister.

I have always known I would find him. The murderer. And I will find him. I was in a public house the evening I heard of him. I did not know his name but I knew they could only be talking of him and his pack of bloodhounds. I simply knew it. They said he would be travelling around the woodland realm to ride further east. So I collected the things I needed, bought a horse and took off the same night.", her voice was as cold as snow. The way she breathed, it was unnatural. Her eyes were sharpened.

She looked him right into the face, pierced it with her cold eyes.

"I will not fail again. I should have fought that day. Should have died with them. But I did not. This shame will always accompany me. The day I find the murderer, his blood will stain the ground until its black and so will the blood of his hounds. Only like that I might be able to give my family back its dignity, it's the only way to ask for forgiveness."

She said it so plain and simple, it nearly broke the elven king's heart.

They looked at each other for a very long time. The crackling fire was the only sound in the silence.

"I thank you for your honesty." He, the king, the ruler, bowed in respect. His crown was shimmering in the light.

"I thank you for the consolation of your presence.", the twenty-two years old woman, under other circumstances she might have been still a girl, inclined her head as well, but in gratitude.

"I will leave tomorrow.", she said plainly.

"This I would not advise you."

Her eyes were sparkling in rage. "And why? Do you doubt my courage? My belief? I will not let you hold me back from doing my duty."

He looked at her intensively. Nearly she would have shaken him, although she knew that he was not the object of this burning rage.

Totally calm he answered: "Absolutely not. I would not presume to do so in the face of your astonishing courage and undoubtedly immovable belief. I feel deep respect for you, I want you to know that. And I neither doubt the pureness of your soul, nor the honorableness of this task. There are far to less personalities I was allowed to find impressive. But I must admit that you have indeed impressed me. You seem to be much more than I had firstly assumed.", he said.

"I want us to be connected by the bond of friendship. You have earned my respect and I very much hope I will be in the condition to win yours. I feel honored to offer you my help. But especially therefore I have to advise you differently.", he said with his face serious.

His seriousness touched her deeply and extinguished her rage. She knew he spoke the truth.

"I thank you for your generous offer, your majesty. I accept it gratefully.", she said with a deep bow. It was the first time she did so.

"Do not bow, Siyath, we should be talking on the same level with each other. You can call yourself a friend of mine now. When you are willing to forgive my initial suspiciousness.", he showed his beautiful smile, which was able to transform his whole face without making it lose just one tiny little bit of its regalness.

"I would have acted just the same.", she replied.

"Why would you advise me differently?", she asked him neutrally.

"Because I am informed of a blockade of all streets and every accessible pass beyond the eastern borders of my realm. Therefore, the east is totally isolated from everything which lays western of my lands. There was a conflict between two antagonized parties, nearer information is not relevant for us right now, anyway, a temporary discontinuation of trade has been the consequence. That means that probably one or two wanderers might be able to pass it unseen, but definitely not a bigger group of mounted men. So they will need to turn around. And then they will either come back the same way or they will dare to take the risk of riding through my realm, because they may need to regain time, time they do not have. In both cases I will definitely be the first one to know. The only thing we have to do now, is to wait." Sharpness was glooming in his eyes and all at once she got reminded of the dangerousness laying within his nature. The nature of an elven king.

She disliked it. He could see it. But she had to admit, he was right.

Reluctantly she nodded.

"Agreed."

And so the decision was made.

"And now do me the honor and drink some wine with me.", he said, as if there wouldn't have happened anything in the meanwhile. His voice was velvety, calm and dark like the crimson gold he poured in two glasses made of pure crystal. He was the embodiment of the absolute sovereignty, in every situation.

"I do not drink.", she said, apologetically smiling.

"Not even for me?", he asked with his beautiful smile.

She laughed. Her snow-white teeth shone in the light.

"For you I would be willing to make an exception.", she said impishly.

And so it came that she, the brave warrior, the girl whose childhood was stolen from her, wearing scars of a cruel life on her heart far too early and he, the immortal elven king, who still fascinated her so much with his beautiful foreignness and his fathomless, distinctive character, were standing next to each other while they looked down on the cold, blue light of thousands of stars in the amicable silence of a peace made.


	6. Chapter 5 - Chess On Clear Ice

_Don't tell me. Seriously. I know, it has taken me **far too long** to post this chapter. But believe me, I have written it with a lot of love and not just my efforts are in there, but also an enormously big amount of patience coming from my lovely beta MelodyDark, thank-you :* And also a huge thank-you for the kind reviews, it is so important for me to know what you think about the story due to this being my first fanfiction ever. _

_I hope, you'll enjoy this chapter. _

* * *

_Chapter 5_

**_Chess On Clear Ice_**

Siyath stepped through the door of her chambers. They appeared more beautiful to her than the last time she had been here. Maybe the reason was the freeing conversation, which had eased her soul, though just a little bit. Indeed, she felt released. The deep grief had not left her heart, but to go through this pain once again and to share it with someone else paradoxically had had a purifying effect. Like clear connate water. A silent hint of excitement touched her heart lightly, of which she had already thought, it had transformed itself into ice that day.

And a beautiful smile, distinctive and sovereign, was standing in front of her eyes again. But also another smile was floating through her head, charming and boyish, so different to the king's.

When she thought of her conversation with Melianar again and of what he had told her that afternoon, she hesitantly stepped in front of the mirror, which was made out of polished, dark wood, glancing at her seductively.

Her face had high cheekbones, elegantly shaped. Underneath laid full lips, distinctively swung, the corners always a little bit smiling, even involuntarily. One sparkling, dark blue eye examined her, the glance intense and knowing. Too old for her young face. And curved like the eyes of a beast: slender and long, a frame of dark lashes. Expressive, thick, blonde eyebrows laid above. Siyath lifted her small hands, small for a fighter, and stroked carefully over the silvery scar, which gorged itself through the left side of her face.

Her hair was braided to a thick, golden brown plat, which shortly ended underneath her shoulders. Single curls had freed themselves and framed her face.

Without the scar she would be as beautiful as a portrait, a face out of an ancient time, but exactly this characteristic feature gave her the impressive face of a warrior, branded by life and unique. Exotic, Melianar had said.

And in this moment she tried to see herself how she truly was, not what she seemed to be to herself. In this very moment, she was able to strip off the pain and look at herself nonbiased and she recognized for the very first time her own great beauty.

The scar, which went from her hairline to her left cheek, reminded her less of a sword parting her face brutally, but more of a river shimmering silvery in the sun while it found its way through the landscape. The white of her eye seemed like a lake, in which all her secrets were liying deep down under the surface and waiting to be discovered. Indeed. Out of some, undefinable reason here face did not appear like a distortion of herself, but rather like an artwork.

No typical beauty, but an extraordinary, unorthodox, surrounded by a hint of mysticism and something..aloof. And who had at the same time the most cordial smile in the world.

After this most shocking discovery, which made her a little bit proud and a little bit insecure at the same time, an enormous atmosphere of..adventure grabbed her senses. She turned around and sallied out her chambers to pace down the corridors. She did not know where she went to and she did not care, either. This new feeling, fluttering carefully in her heart, ruled everything.

And then, all at once, she stood in a huge hall, filled with nothing than elves. Courtiers, also female elves, who Siyath examined with extraordinary interest. When she stepped forward, a few of the present appraised her disparagingly and yet, with a hint of nearly not hide curiosity. She didn't draw back, but her heart was beating wild and hard in her chest and she felt it in her throat. There Melianar found his way through them, in full armor again.

"Siyath.", his smooth voice said calmly. Only his eyes revealed his joy. She was glad to see him, too.

"Melianar.", she said with a bright smile, breaking through thick clouds as the sun itself and making her face glow.

Despite his presence she could clearly feel the subliminal animosity and a certain disgust in the gazes of the present. She was the only mortal in a room full of immortals. She could smell them; they smelled differently, pleasant, but different. Their hair floated down their backs like water. Even their breath was different, a lot slowlier it went. It was the breath of the superior, who were aware of their immortality. The breath of creatures of another world. The eyes, which were laying on her, were as cold as snow.

"Come with me, Siyath.", said the dark-haired elf, who could feel the subliminal tension as well.

He grabbed her arm and conducted her out of the room, just to get held back by an officer, as the uniform told her.

"Wait!", the melodic voice shouted.

When Siyath turned around, she recognized the second elf, who had brought her to the king's palace. Although he had dark hair like Melianar, his definitely had something reddish in addition. His eyes were dark and friendly, his stature a little bit broader than Melianar's. She could remember his bones breaking under her hands.

"I wuld like to introduce myself. My name is Arigoris.", he slightly inclined his head, so that long eyelashes sank on his cheeks.

When she did not answer immediately, he added: "You had broken my nose.", he smiled a little bit stiffly.

"Oh yes, I can remember it!", she said maybe a hint to enthusiastically in face of his facial expression. "I mean, of course, I feel sorry about this incident…although you had definitely provoked your destiny.", she laughed. "Yet, I have of course only broken your nose because it was a necessity. Forgive me. It has healed well though, if I may ask?", she asked interested.

"Oh, I do not take offense in it. You were attacked. And thank you for your interest; I can indeed say it has healed very well.", he said smiling.

"Do you like our realm?", he asked, instead of pushing the topic any longer.

"Well, in face of the fact that I got prevented from seeing much of it, I do not feel myself in the condition to answer this question. But the palace is of the most impressive beauty, your people does have great architectural skills, one cannot deny that.", she grinned at him impishly. Wit was sparkling in the dark blue of her eyes.

"I heard of the king being…appreciating your presence, letting you stay in these halls as his personal guest.", Arigoris said and now she could see a spark of calculatio in his polite smile. She was wide awake.

"I keep wondering whether this was a wise decision.", another voice said behind her. If cold calculation was to be a voice, this would be it. The hair on her skin felt electrified.

When she turned around, an elf of undoubtedly high rank was standing in front of her. She knew immediately that he played an important role at this court. You could see it: the steadfast glance, laying calculating on her, the armor of a great warrior covering his body and his hand, casually placed on the knob of his silver sword. But his eyes, that were the coldest eyes she had ever seen.

"Well, who am I, little, unimportant child of men to question the decision of a king, the one of such a glorious elven ruler known and famous for his wisdom and his always well-considered acting in whole Middle-earth in addition? It would be most presumptuous to, in my position, doubt the decision of Thranduil….or in yours. Or are you not a subject to your king and therefore bound to him by loyalty?", she asked politely, but an icy coldness was laying in her eyes.

She did not know why he slightly winced at these words. Either because she had just openly questioned his loyalty towards his very own ruler or because she had spoken out the name of the king loudly. It felt weird on her tongue and…familiar at the same time. As if it would belong there.

The elf's gaze pierced her own. Awkward. She sweated a little bit. Her face was a mask of polite interest.

"Do not dare to talk to me like this in the halls of _my_ people, child of men.", anger boiled in his eyes, but he controlled himself skillfully, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Siyath stared at his face for another moment.

Then she stepped so near to him, that only a few centimeters were still parting them. His armor mirrored her face.

"Better do not forget that it was _you_ who doubted your king in the halls of _his_ people. Not me.",

she said with a charming smile. It could nearly have been honest. But her eyes only found place for the profound animosity she had felt for this man from the very first second.

"What is happening here, Tychidas?", their ears heard a controlled voice. Her head turned immediately in the direction it came from, as did the head of the other elf.

Of cause it was him. She would have recognized this voice even in her sleep. _Why, actually…?_ She asked herself briefly before she concentrated on the situation again.

The elven king stood in front of them, embraced by dark red and silver silk; the shimmery fabric running down his body, only to burst out in endless light and dark waves around him. Innumerable pearls were woven into the seams of his clothes, so that it remained a riddle to her how he had been able to come nearer so soundlessly. Silver and golden rings, richly covered by the finest jewels embellished his elegant, snow-white hands. She knew, how strong these hands could be despite their filigree looks, though.

His face showed a look of medium interest, blended with general boredom and a hint of regal arrogance. His glass-clear, ice-blue eyes firstly examined her coolly, were they remained maybe one second too long, then they went to the elf in front of her.

"Your majesty, nothing of importance, when I am allowed to say so.", Tychidas explained smoothly with an elegant bow. His features did not show anything than polite devotion.

"Your voice sounded excited, though.", the king stated. He had not blinked once.

He was waiting.

But before Tychidas could answer, Siyath began to speak.

"Oh, we were just discussing the enormous importance of loyalty in every manner. We were _absolutely_ of the same opinion that one cannot overestimate its great value.", she gave Tychidas a devastating look, then smiled at the elven ruler charmingly.

The eyes of the king were locked with hers and simply knew in this very second, that he had heard their conversation earlier.

"Truly.", his lips dwelled. One more time he exchanged looks with both of them. Then he looked at her intensively again.

"Come with me, Siyath.", his gaze did not allow any contradiction. And without another comment he sweeped out of the room.

But before Siyath could follow him, Tychidas cut her off.

"You know, the king is truly obsessed with his passion for collecting. He collects beautiful things and plays with them for a while until, finally, they begin to bore him. You better should not overestimate your importance, Siyath. You are nothing more than his newly discovered favorite toy and probably are going to get boring for him earlier, than you can even imagine.", the calculating smile, dripping with derision, had appeared on his full lips again, while his voice was as smooth as velvet.

Calmly she glanced at him. "And you should probably learn to hide your jealousy better, Tychidas. To lose the favor of the king, one has to _be_ in favor with him, firstly.", she smiled casually, whispering her words like telling him a secret.

"And do you know what? I'll be so merciful and put in a good word for you.", she grabbed his arm and squeezed it affectionately.

Then she turned around and left, at least a hundred pairs of cold eyes in her back. Melianar had frozen to ice.

Alright. If he wanted a war, then he could get one, by all the gods. Yet, her heart was in her mouth and when she had passed the next corner, she leaned against the wall to get her pulse under control again.

That had been more than reckless.

She got frightened to death, when someone shot as fast and sharp as an arrow around the corner. Only a second later she realized that it was Melianar.

He discovered her leaning against the wall and grabbed her arm harshly to haul her further along the corridor.

"Would you mind doing that a liitle bit more gently?", she hissed.

He stopped abruptly and pressed her against the wall.

"What. Was. That?", he asked.

She had not seen him like this ever before, to be honest, she wouldn't even have _thought_, that Melianar was able to show another frame of mind than absolute and deeply relaxed calmness.

"Well, he has, indirectly, I admit that, but still he firstly insulted me, then the king, and then me again. I saw it as my duty to defend my own, as well as the honor of the king. And besides, who shall that be anyhow..?", she said with the calmness he was lacking.

"He has not truly insulted the king, but wanted to provoke you. Do you understand?! He tested you! By all the gods, Siyath, that is one of the generals of the royal army and you..yyou…!", it probably was the most astonishing thing she had ever seen before, when Melianar started stuttering. She could not believe it. It was sort of..sweet.

"Are you actually stuttering?", she blurted out in absolute surprise.

"What?", he asked completely perplex, interrupted in his tirade. "No! I mean, y..yes, but only when I'm in such a state o..of exciteme..ent..!, he said in the most reproachful tone, which said it all.

"That truly is..heart-warming and absolutely…fascinating, when you do that." She paused. Then she looked at him again. "Are you going to do it again?", she asked eagerly.

"Damn it, Siyath..", he tugged at his hair. She couldn't stop staring at him. Unbelievable.

"..for me?", she interrupted him.

"Now listen to me, damn it.", something in his voice let her fall silent.

"Excuse me.", she said all at once uncomfortably.

He let his hands fall and breathed in deeply.

"Well. This person you have just gotten into a confrontation with in publicity is one of the generals of his majesty and therefore of great importance for him. He has never ever lost a battle. Do you understand? He is enjoying the trust of the king!", he said insistently.

"Even if: Does he king _want_ to trust him or does he do so out of necessity? There is a big difference and I think it rather is the latter.", she said.

"It does not matter, Siyath! You cannot fight him because you will lose. So please forget your pride."

"Excuse me? To do what? Lick up his saliva? Should I emphasize once again that _he_ was the one to provoke _me _and not the other way around? I did not delight in my one pride, but did nothing more than to refuse myself the cowardice of crawling away like a beaten dog.

Besides, I knew immediately that he could only be a general or something in the same league; such a man must be virtuosic in taking away lives with cold calculation. For someone with those eyes lives only are numbers on a sheet of paper. And I do _not_ believe that he is in favor with the king. His thinking does not fit together with Thranduil's.", she hissed.

When she said the name of the elven ruler, the elf In front of her winced.

"What? What is it? That _is_ his name or is it not?", she asked excitedly.

"Yes..yes, indeed, but no one really speaks out his name.", he said perplex.

"Well, I think, his name is beautiful and am going to use it with the highest respect. And in addition I do not believe that a king with such wisdom trusts a man like Tychidas more than just apparently."

"Do you really believe, you know an elf, a king as well! After only three conversations better than those, who always surround him?", Melianar asked factually. He meant no harm, he just wanted to protect her from doing a grave mistake, she knew that.

"I believe, that when the king is surrounded by more personalities like Tyhcidas', one can only call it a miracle that this kingdom still exists and the king still is alive. He is false, I have seen it in his eyes.", she said hardly.

"Oh, Siyath, but he is already in the army of the king for centuries now. Don't you think, he would have already tried to deceive him long ago?" The elf sighed.

"It even is the _perfect _basis for a complot. Why the hurry, when one is immortal? Isn't it a lot more approximate that he counts on that? Blinded by centuries of loyal service no one will suspect him. It nearly is a perfect plan."

"Which plan? Siyath, all this is nothing more than speculation. And besides, you didn't even like the king yesterday. And now you already accuse his closest advisors of possible treason? It nearly seems as if _you_ are his most loyal intimate now!"

Of course he had a point there, she thought, how did she actually become so protective concerning the elven king? Why was she so angry in face of the possibility of broken loyalty towards a king, she had believed she despised until a few hours ago? It was baffling. Yet, it didn't decrease her anger.

"Maybe he needs exactly that, a loyal intimate, at least one single person who is relentlessly and truly honest towards him. Because when I take a closer look at the faces of this court, then I either see feigned loyalty or deliberate blindness concerning this fathomlessly disgusting wire-pulling. It would make me sick, if I was meant to be in his position. And he may have accused me wrongly, but that _certainly_ does not make him a king who deserves this." , she said excitedly.

Abruptly she turned around and sweeped away. How could he not see it? She had felt the falsehood at this court in the very moment, she had entered the halls. And she had damn much experience with falsehood by now.

Had she turned around one more time, she could have seen, how the elf glanced after her thoughtfully, furrowing his brow and a certain notion taking shape in his head. But she did nothing suchlike.

Still filled with incomprehension she walked through the corridors, got lost twice, but finally reached the huge portal, through which she had stepped not long ago to visit the king. This time, though, two fully-armored warriors guards were standing in front of it, making a way wordlessly, when they saw her.

By all the gods, Siyath did not know, what was awaiting her in there. Would he be angry? Or disappointed? Or would he even call her behavior good? She did not know it at all.

So she calmed down her racing pulse and breathed deeply once. Then she pushed the heavy wings of the door open and sat her feet on the enchanted path again.


End file.
